


Kaburagi Kotetsu's Bad Day Blues,  or: Fried Rice Soup for the Soul

by TaraFarrago



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: But still G-rated, Canon Universe, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I Just Needed To Write This, M/M, Partnership, Post-The Rising, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraFarrago/pseuds/TaraFarrago
Summary: He remembered a time when Barnaby had held him in his arms and said such nice things to him. How he wanted to cook him fried rice. He'd thought Kotetsu had been dying at the time, of course. Apparently working with a fever didn't rate the same kind of sympathy.(Kotetsu is adjusting to being on the First League again after Justice Day, when a bad cold catches him off-guard)





	1. Like There Was Another Option, or:  F for Effort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kotetsu isn't feeling well - but a little cold isn't going to keep a hero from fulfilling his obligations to the public... or to his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I wanted to write some fluff and ended up writing feelz - probably because I have too many feelz of my own about these guys. Everything about them is wonderful and every minute I spend writing them is wonderful too.
> 
> We join our heroes a few weeks after the end of The Rising. Golden Ryan is gone, Tiger and Bunny have been reunited on the First League, and life... ah... finds a way.

Kotetsu stared at his ceiling, looking for shapes and patterns in the textured plaster. It was a tough task, since the harder he stared at them, the more they seemed to sway and shimmer like a mirage. It was about as much stimulation as he could handle for the moment, given how heavy, and stiff, and warm, and basically awful he felt.

He’d had worse, of course. In the grand scheme of things, this was nothing - a minor fever, brought on by… whatever causes fevers. Probably all that hand-shaking and autograph-signing and relentless interviewing - all of which Kotetsu would gladly have skipped, but Barnaby _insisted_ he keep every appointment. ( _“Maintaining a good public image is the second most important part of hero work!”_ \-- _Feh_.)

Not that he would complain about his sudden popularity in the wake of the Justice Day incident. After more than a decade hero-ing in the shadows, Kotetsu was enjoying having an actual fanbase of his own.

But it was tiring! Having people stop you on the street every time you went out to buy rice… It had been fun the first week, but now, three weeks in, he marveled at how Barnaby did it. Was this why he always spent his free time locked away in his apartment alone? And of course it figured that his first day off from public appearances in almost a month, he’d be stuck feeling lousy...

Oh - there! That plaster wrinkle looked like Keith’s dog when it wavered to the left...

His wristband beeped at him. Agnes. An escaped arsonist with two, maybe three accomplices. She wanted them all in pursuit.

 _Good_ , he thought, despite his aches and exhaustion. After their mixed bags of results of their first seven - eight? - outings, Tiger and Bunny needed an opportunity to climb up the scoreboard. Especially Bunny, who for some reason seemed more points-happy than ever now that he was back on the First League again.

“On my way,” Kotetsu confirmed, forcing himself up with a groan. _Okay, Kaburagi Kotetsu,_ he told himself, _you can do this. Time to go be a hero._

    -    -    -    -    -

He paused inside the door of their prep van to catch his breath. Hurrying had been harder than he’d expected. Barnaby was in the seats, already suited up. He looked annoyed - but then Kotetsu thought he always looked annoyed these days. “It’s been almost twenty minutes. We’ll be lucky if the chase isn’t over by now. Did something happen?”

“Sorry,” Kotetsu huffed, trying to grin. “I, uhm… I had a call from Kaede.” He cringed inwardly at himself. _Using your daughter as a fake excuse for your own slow feet?_ He wasn’t even sure how the excuse made sense. But it worked. Barnaby’s expression softened. Before any other comments could be offered, he hurried over to Saito’s suit-up machine. “I only need two minutes!”

By the time he’d squeezed into his armor, the van was racing into position on the Silver West Expressway. Kotetsu found Barnaby by the back bay prepping their bikes. “Ready, old man?”

“Ready when you are, Lil’ Bunny,” he said, climbing into the sidecar - and for once grateful for the chance to just sit and let Barnaby take control. “What’s everyone’s status?”

“The criminals are on foot down on Bronze. They already evaded Sky High and Dragon Kid. Fire Emblem is in pursuit. No sign yet of the others.”

“Good,” Kotetsu said. If Karina froze them in an ice blast, this would all be for nothing. They needed to at least make an appearance and put in an effort before that happened.

“<< _WILD TIGER! >>” _

Kotetsu flinched as Saito’s voice screamed in his headset. “Saito! Turn it down, would you?”

“<<...IS THIS BETTER?>>”

 _Only a little_. “Yes. Better. Thanks. Now, what?”

“<<YOUR HERO SUIT IS SENDING BACK UNEVEN READINGS. I’M SEEING ELEVATED BODY TEMPERATURE AND IRREGULAR HEART RHYTHMS. DO YOU BELIEVE THIS IS A MALFUNCTION? ARE YOU UNWELL?>>

Kotetsu swallowed, his heart thudding harder at having been discovered. Not that he was hiding. Was he? He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He only knew that, three weeks into being back on the First League (and three weeks into having fans, and three weeks into being Barnaby’s partner again), ignoring Agnes’s call was not an option. And screwing up wasn’t an option, either.

Barnaby asked, sounding annoyed again, “What’s going on? Are you ready or not?”

Kotetsu shook his head at them both. “It’s fine, Saito, get off my helmet.” _What did I just say?_ “Go, Bunny.”

Barnaby revved the motor and flipped the switch to open the bay doors. “Kotetsu, everything’s okay?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

Barnaby took his cue. They exploded out the back of the van and merged into traffic just in time to fire down the ramp to Bronze.

    -    -    -    -    -

The criminals weren’t NEXTs, but they also weren’t idiots - and they knew this part of West Bronze.

At first it looked like they’d have an easy arrest when Barnaby chased them toward an alley. They’d pulled this trick off with success last week. Kotetsu would jump off the bike and pursue them down the alley on foot, while Barnaby zipped around the block and trapped them at the other end. Kotetsu didn’t love the idea of a foot-chase, but he figured he could handle a quick sprint down an alley, especially if it meant an easy arrest.

Unfortunately, the arsonists knew what they were doing. Before Barnaby had re-appeared to trap them, they’d jumped up a fire escape and ducked into the adjacent building through a broken window.

Kotetsu sighed up at the metal staircase. At least the cameras couldn’t follow them inside. The only one who would see him falling behind would be Bunny. Small comfort.

And fall behind he did. In seconds, Barnaby had outstripped him. Kotetsu huffed and puffed and struggled to keep him in sight as they wove through the halls of the abandoned warehouse. “Barnaby!” he called. “We’re going to have to activate our powers to catch up to them.”

“We should wait until we’ve chased them outside again where the cameras can get it,” Barnaby called back over his shoulder. “Come on, old man, we can catch them!”

“Bunny--!” Exasperated, Kotetsu ignored the heat in his own breath and dug down deep for extra energy. He couldn't run _and_ argue.

He’d known it was a long-shot request. These days Barnaby was freshly interested in both points and popularity ( _“We only increase the public’s trust in NEXTs if our heroics end up on the show.”_ ) Not only that, but also “team-action”. “Team-action” was Barnaby’s new mantra. Everything they did on the show, they had to do _together. Team_ attacks, _team_ rescues, _team_ poses. Kotetsu liked being Barnaby’s partner, but this strategy meant that Barnaby was hampering himself - only making use of one fifth of his Hundred Power time. Wouldn't a better plan be to let Barnaby do the criminal-catching while Kotetsu focused on protecting bystanders? But Barnaby _would not_ be convinced that this was a smart strategy. ( _“We’re partners, the audience expects us to do things together!” --_ Again: _Feh.)_

Eventually the complex of offices led to an open space - an old factory floor in disuse. They had a clear view of the fleeing arsonists, but they were already on the far side of the building. Maybe Barnaby could catch up to them as they reached the street, but Kotetsu knew it was hopeless for him.

Bunny wasn’t going to like this, but too bad for Bunny. “I’m going for it.” Kotetsu activated his powers. All of his exhaustion was momentarily subsumed by that familiar, welcome rush of energy. “<<Hundred Power activated! Countdown!>>” came the digital voice in his ear, and a small sixty-second timer appeared in his helmet display.

“Yes!” He lined himself up, dug deep again, and launched himself at the culprits.

“ _Tiger!_ ” Barnaby cried as he rocketed past him.

One of the downsides - or upsides, depending on the situation - of his declined abilities was that sometimes, unexpectedly, he got an extra boost to his power. This was one of those sometimes. The extra speed almost sent him into a head-over-heels tumble - he cried out and flailed - thank goodness there were no cameras. He kept his feet, but lost control over his trajectory…

He slammed into one of them - managed to trap him in his arms - and then smashed through a window and onto the pavement.

Kotetsu lifted his head and saw his captured arsonist groaning on the street nearby. Luckily Kotetsu had taken the brunt of the impact with the glass, so the man didn’t have any serious lacerations, and probably wasn’t too badly bruised.

Staring up at sky, Kotetsu saw a Hero TV helicopter hovering above them. _How will_ _this_ _play on the show?_ he wondered. And then Barnaby was standing over him with his hands on his hips. “Well, at least you got one of them,” he said. His tone was less than congratulatory.

Kotetsu grimaced. “The other one’s all yours. I better stay here and turn this guy into the police.” With only about forty seconds left on his clock, he wouldn’t be much help to Barnaby now… in fact he might even be a burden. And really, he just wanted to stay where he was. Except for all the places his hero suit dug into him at funny angles, it was nice to be horizontal again. “Go get him, Bunny!”

Barnaby seemed to hesitate. What did he want, more ‘team action’? Kotetsu only had thirty seconds now. Maybe they could 'team pose’ or 'team nap on the pavement’.

“Barnaby, what are you waiting for? Get moving!”

Barnaby nodded, and disappeared. Kotetsu gave a feeble thumbs up to the video chopper.

His arsonist scrambled to his feet. _Well_ , Kotetsu sighed, _at least he’s not injured_. He rolled over and tackled him to the ground again. “Nice try.”

The guy shouted vulgarities at him. He was obviously going to be a handful, so Kotetsu cuffed him to a lamppost using a metal bar from the busted window. Then he struck a heroic pose - at least he could still do _that_ \- and waved at the video chopper again. Hopefully they’d use that footage instead of the video of Barnaby standing over him while he’d lain in the street like a beat-up grandpa.

He was just glad he’d scored some points this time. Barnaby may not have liked the tactics, but he couldn't argue with the results.

That was when he heard the engine.

Kotetsu whirled. Someone in a mask behind the wheel of a car, barreling down on him. _“Uahhh!”_ He spun again, looking for escape. Run? Dive sideways? The street was so narrow… He spotted a ledge above. Good, he could swing away. Kotetsu aimed his wrist cable at it, fired, pulled--

 _SLAM!_ First he was smashed onto the hood of the car, tumbling backward up the windshield. Then he was catapulted forward, a ragdoll jumble of limbs and military-grade plastic. His cable - extra strong and durable, _thanks for that, Saito!_ \- ripped at his arm before disengaging from the bricks above him.

Finally, the unrelenting crush of the pavement. He skidded to a halt somewhere down the street.

Kotetsu lay there, defeated, staring at the sky again, watching the last few seconds of his Hundred Power tick down. Five. Four. Three. “<<Good Luck Mode!>>” his suit declared, and the gadgets hidden in the armor around his right arm, currently pinned beneath him, all needlessly activated. Two. One.

He felt his power leave him - and his fever come flooding back. He groaned. At least they’d hit him before his powers had finished, since it had saved him from real injury. But he'd been achy before, and _now..._

The car engine again. These guys didn't give up. Kotetsu crawled out of the way just in time - the car whizzed past him.

And had he seen _two_ people in there? He looked back at the lamppost.

No more captured criminal.

Kotetsu sat up, grimacing at a sharp ache in his shoulder, and tapped his comms. “Hey, Bunny,” he said, deflated. “Mine got away. Two of them are in a car - small, green…” He reached up to scratch the back of his head and winced at the movement. “...probably dented on the front. Heading north from where I had him.”

Barnaby’s frustration was audible in the silence that preceded his terse reply: “I understand.”

Kotetsu put a hand on the wall and dragged himself upright. He knew he should find a way to get back into the chase - _heroes don’t give up!_ \- but inertia was a powerful force. At this point even putting one foot in front of the other felt like an uphill battle. He wondered if Mr. Legend had ever had a day like this.

“Are you in pursuit?” Barnaby wanted to know.

 _Heroes don’t give up._ “I will be!” he would say, with enough conviction to convince even himself it would be easy.

But the words stuck in his throat. Running after them was pointless. He couldn’t use his cables - not with his shoulder screaming at him. Even if he could muster the energy to hurry back to his bike, his sixty seconds of usefulness wouldn’t refresh for another hour. _Heroes don’t give up_ … “Kotetsu?”

“Not this time, Bunny.” With a heavy, dejected sigh, Kotetsu started his long trudge back up the street.

So much for not screwing up.

 


	2. Down and Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kotetsu's bad day just keeps going...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the beat goes on, da-da-dum da-dum da-da.

He stared at the ceiling again - this time the ceiling of their prep van, from the vantage point of the sofa seat in their changing space. The van’s ceiling was perfect, smooth plastic, so there were no shapes or patterns to find - no Keith’s dogs, even if you squinted the right way.

The van had met him back where they'd abandoned their motorcycles. After returning their bikes to the rear bay and assuring Saito that he did not require medical assistance, Kotetsu had sat down on the seats to change out of his suit. He'd succeeded in removing his helmet, gauntlets, and gloves, but after he finally managed to get the breastplate off - with his wrenched shoulder to deal with, it had been a struggle - he’d given up on the rest of it. At least for a while. And he'd lain down, put up his feet, and tried to gauge how sore he was.

The answer was _‘very’_. Did his joints ache from fever, or from being tossed around the street like a broken marionette? He decided the better question was: what difference did it make? And an even better question was: why weren’t these seats softer?

At some point he closed his eyes.

At some later point he became aware of a presence above him, and he opened them again.

Barnaby. Suit on, visor up, so Kotetsu could see the anger pinching his eyes. “Are you all right?” Gruff, always so gruff.

Kotetsu sighed and shifted his gaze back to the ceiling so he wouldn’t have to see Barnaby’s irritation. “Yeah.”

“Saito told me what happened. Are you sure you weren’t hurt?”

He regretted giving up on the suit. If he’d finished getting back into his civilian clothes, he could have been halfway home by now. “I’ve had worse,” he assured him. Then his head snapped up with a sudden horrible thought: did he mean that Saito had interrupted Barnaby’s chase to send him back here? “Wait, Bunny -- did you get the arsonists?”

Barnaby frowned, but nodded. “I got the one I’d been chasing. Blue Rose got the two in the car. Fire Emblem got the fourth.”

He let his head fall back. _Thank goodness_. If he’d cost Barnaby points… “I’m glad you got one, at least. Sorry for losing us the other.”

With an edge on his voice, Barnaby asked, “Why are you lying here in your hero suit if nothing’s wrong?”

Kotetsu sighed again and managed to push himself up. Even that meager effort left him winded. “I guess I’m having a bad day.” And then he further admitted - because Barnaby was going to figure it out anyway - “Maybe I’m a little under the weather.”

Another brief pause, and then: “ _Then why did you come out today?_ ” It was almost a roar, and it caught Kotetsu by surprise. He looked up and read a mix of confusion and rage on Barnaby’s features.

Kotetsu looked away. He knew what Barnaby would say, and he didn’t want to hear it. That answering Agnes’s call had been a bad decision. That, having made that bad decision, he should have followed their normal teamwork procedure and waited to activate his powers in tandem with Barnaby, instead of jumping the gun and flying solo in the warehouse. That, having made _that_ bad decision, he should have paid closer attention to his surroundings - should have better secured his apprehended criminal and evaded the car.

There were many things he could say in his defense - like arguing that they should have activated their powers _together_ in the warehouse, when Kotetsu had suggested it, and leapt forward to capture them then, cameras or no. Like arguing that it would have been unwise to skip out on a job he’d only had for three weeks - _especially_ a job that he only had in the first place because of an aberrant (very aberrant) uptick in his popularity.

Instead he kept silent. This was a day for bad decisions - why break the chain now?

“Just help me out of my boots, would you?” he said, making an effort not to sound petulant. Or pathetic. “I pulled my shoulder earlier, and I can’t…” Barnaby stood frozen for a moment, his jaw stuck open, his expression unreadable. Kotetsu looked away again. He was _not_ going to say ‘please’.

Then Barnaby dropped to his knees and silently, roughly yanked Kotetsu’s boots off. “Thanks.” And he didn’t stop there - shin guards were next, followed by knee and thigh plating. “Hey, that’s enough…” Barnaby’s rough hands worked quickly but jostled his limbs, apparently without consideration for the amount of jostling they’d already sustained.

He remembered a time when Barnaby had held him in his arms and said such nice things to him. How he wanted to cook Kotetsu fried rice. He'd thought Kotetsu had been dying at the time, of course. Apparently working with a fever didn't rate the same kind of sympathy.

Next the remaining armor sheaths around his arms came off, and then his fingers pried at the flex-plating around his midsection. “All right, I’ll get it from there!” Kotetsu insisted angrily. “Jeez. I’ll end up with _more_ bruises if you keep going like that.”

Kotetsu kicked all the armor pieces into a pile and moved to where his clothes were hung on the wall - he only swayed a little as he walked, and he could blame that on the movement of the van. Behind him, Barnaby started on his own suit, placing the pieces carefully in the appropriate drawers along the wall. Kotetsu could almost hear his jaw clamping down on everything he wanted to say.

He removed the last of his plating piece by piece in the silence, then worked on wriggling out of the undersuit. It was the awkwardest few minutes they’d shared in a long time. In years. _I should say something_ , he thought. _Apologize for messing things up - again_. To say they hadn't yet achieved their potential would be an understatement. And Kotetsu was sure it wasn’t because of Barnaby.

Barnaby beat him to it. “Something’s going on with us,” he called over the gentle hum of the van’s engine. “I don’t know what it is, but we should fix it, don’t you think?”

“No lectures today, Bunny. Okay?”

“I -- I wasn't going to lecture!” Kotetsu gave him a ‘whatever’ wave without turning around. “If I was going to lecture, I'd say 'There’s something going on with _you_ ,’ and then force you to tell me what it was!”

He was too tired to do this now. Done buttoning his shirt, Kotetsu spread his vest out on a shelf, opened one of the first aid drawers, pulled out an ice pack and tossed it onto the vest. Barnaby went on, “But since I can see you’re going to continue being immature about it, I won’t bother.” With each ignored statement, the younger man’s voice became more agitated.

Thinking ahead, Kotetsu stole three more ice packs, then secured the impromptu bag with his necktie.

Now Barnaby shouted: “ _Kotetsu -- if being partners again isn’t working out for you, just say so_.”

Kotetsu stiffened. Involuntarily his eyes shot to Barnaby standing on the far side of their van. There was desperation and anger melded on his young features. There was also a defiant challenge in his eyes that withered under Kotetsu’s gaze. “...Because it certainly feels like that’s what you’re thinking,” Barnaby continued, less forcefully. “Is it?”

 _Being partners your way certainly isn't working out_, he wanted to shout, but didn't have the energy.

And besides - logically, Barnaby would be better off without a partner. Or maybe with a _better_ partner, like Golden Ryan - who, as awful as he’d been, had at least been an effective hero. Far more effective than ‘Wild Tiger One-Minute’, whose sixty-second power-ups produced varied results.

Barnaby was supposed to be the logical one. Kotetsu wanted to take this logic and throw it in his face.

Except what if Barnaby took him up on it?

Damned Barnaby, why had he had to open this door? He always had to push, always had to control...

Kotetsu slapped the ‘emergency stop’ button on the wall by the door, signaling their anonymous driver to pull over. “Let's do this another day, okay, Lil’ Bunny?”

“What are you doing?” Barnaby demanded.

“Going home.”

“Kotetsu!” That accusing tone, nearly shouting again.

“I'm just tired, Barnaby,” he said. It was the truth, at least. Maybe tomorrow, when he was feeling better, he'd find a sunnier outlook for their continued partnership. Maybe Kotetsu could convince him to give up some of his ridiculous restrictions, or maybe - preferably - they could pretend this day and this stupid confrontation never happened. And Kotetsu would continue playing by Barnaby’s silly rules and prove himself to still be an asset, anyway.

The van rolled to a stop. Kotetsu clicked the door open. “See ya,” he waved at Barnaby, who stood in the van, still half suited up, gaping. Then he dropped onto the street to look for a taxi, leaving Barnaby behind.


	3. Fried Rice Soup for the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kotetsu finds himself (unwillingly) under his partner's care - who knows if that's a good or a bad thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And now, the conclusion."

Rest was an elusive friend. Hours of tossing, dozing, sweating, and shivering finally gave way to illusion-laced oblivion.

Through a heavy fog of slumber, Kotetsu felt someone holding his hand. But they were doing it wrong. Not holding his hand like Tomoe used to do - fingers intertwined or palms cupped together. More like holding his hand… as though holding his hand was incidental. And icy fingers fumbled with his wrist.

Taking his pulse.

Barnaby’s fingers.

Kotetsu retreated back into slumber.

“Look at me.” Gruff, always so gruff. But gentle, too. Like his face - smooth, and youthful, and stern, and kind - all at once. “Kotetsu, wake up and look at me.”

With great effort, Kotetsu tilted his head off the pillow - his soft, inviting, but too warm pillow - and squinted up at the voice. Everything seemed out of focus and dreamy, but sure enough there was his partner - “Lil’ Bunny…” he mumbled with an unbidden smile - hovering over him.

He was rewarded for his efforts with a cold, rough spike shoved under his tongue. “Keep that there,” Barnaby’s voice instructed.

Kotetsu scowled, shut his eyes and buried his face in the pillow again. But he kept his teeth clamped on the spike anyway. It was easier to obey him than fight him - he was so stubborn! So stubborn…

After too many agonizingly-long seconds, the spike came out. He heard Barnaby sigh. Kotetsu tried to mumble a retort - probably something clever, and biting, to put the younger man in his place. He was half-aware that the pillow muffled his words.

Then he dove back into the deep end of sleepfulness.

    -    -    -    -    -

He was more aware of himself this time. Aches throbbed through him. He _wanted_ to sleep, but all he achieved by closing his eyes was to shut out the world.

Only not entirely, because there were smells and sounds from below that drifted up to him. He started -- had he left the stove on? Hadn't he come home and started a bowl of rice cooking?...

No, someone was in the kitchen. Thank goodness, because he doubted his ability to make it down the stairs to put out a fire.

He reached for his watch on the bedstand, ignoring the scream of his muscles, and found the table covered in things he was sure hadn't been there before. Water bottles, drugstore flu medicine, a thermometer… Now that he was noticing things that were out of place, he touched his shoulder and found that it was bandaged, with a cool-but-not-cold ice pack wrapped onto it. He touched his forehead and found a damp hand towel there - and he started to pull it away, but decided it felt soothing and left it.

Someone had really been taking care of him. Kotetsu wasn't sure how to feel about that - he was used to taking care of himself.

And then a fresh wave of aches rolled over him, and he shivered, and felt fine with it.

Kotetsu huddled under his blankets. It had to be Barnaby down there. Right? Or had he dreamt that Barnaby had been here before? Maybe Barnaby had come over, found him, and called someone else to take over, he thought hopefully. Maybe it was his mother. Or Antonio, or Sky High.

 _You’re a terrible person, Kotetsu,_ he told himself. Two months ago, before Mark Schneider fired him, Barnaby was the _only_ person he would have wanted downstairs in his kitchen, taking care of him while he was sick. How had he allowed them to get to a point where Kotetsu dreaded Barnaby’s company?

If only he’d hurried home yesterday! Then Barnaby would never have had the chance to open the door to this awful conversation...

Because if Barnaby was here, it meant he wanted a talk - and Kotetsu was sure that little good would come from talking. ( _“Something’s going on with us,”_ Barnaby had said in the van. _“We should fix it, don’t you think?”_ ...Sure, that was a nice idea, but what if shining a light on it made it worse? Broken is better than obliterated, right?)

He got the watch and pulled it close to his face. Eight-thirty -- _p.m.?!_ It took a few moments for his fuzzy brain to comprehend the math. That meant he'd been in bed for almost twenty-four hours. How could that be? He remembered returning from the chase… calling home… starting and abandoning dinner… stripping down and climbing into bed, and then tossing and turning and dozing on and off…

And then nothing. Hours of lost time. And now it was evening again. And Barnaby (or someone) was in his kitchen cooking.

What day of the week was it? Had he had anything scheduled today?

He decided he did. Not. Care.

 _Sleep, Kaburagi_ , he commanded himself. _Sleeeeeep._

Too late. Barnaby appeared at the top of the steps, a bowl of something and a soup spoon in hand. Kotetsu shifted under the blankets to signal in the loft’s low light that he was awake. “Barnaby…” he greeted. He barely recognized his own voice.

Barnaby’s eyes found him in the darkness. He wasn't frowning, but he wasn't quite smiling either. Kotetsu couldn't place the expression, but it was, somehow, quintessentially Barnaby. And it made Kotetsu a little bit nervous. “Good, you’re up.”

He joked weakly in reply, “Well, I wouldn't say that.” Barnaby set the bowl down on the table and flicked the lamp on. Kotetsu squinted and blinked in the sudden brightness. He would have preferred to dig in under the covers, roll over, and aim for sleep again. But, he sensed he was on Barnaby’s time now. He struggled onto his elbows, and pulled the cloth off his head so he wouldn't feel so much like a five-year-old being cared for by mother.

“Here…” Barnaby adjusted the pillows to help him sit. Kotetsu felt a chill as the blankets slipped off his shoulders. He manfully ignored it.

The younger man sat next to him on the bed. His eyes seemed to scan over Kotetsu's face like he was looking for information. That was when Kotetsu recognized the expression - it was Barnaby’s research-face.

Nothing good ever came from that face.

Another chill - from the fever or Barnaby’s scrutiny? _Screw it,_ Kotetsu thought, and gathered the blankets under his chin again.

“Thanks for coming over, I guess,” he said. It seemed like the right thing to say.

Barnaby smiled and shook his head. “You should eat,” he said, gesturing to the soup. “I brought fried rice over, but soup is better when you're sick so I put it in a broth.”

“Fried rice soup?” He laughed a little, but graciously reached for the bowl. Barnaby helped when he saw him struggling to reach it, placing the bowl in his lap and handing him the spoon. “Thanks…”

“You look terrible,” Barnaby declared.

Kotetsu raised the spoon in a mock salute to Sky High. “‘...and again, thanks.’”

He swept the spoon back and forth in the broth to help it cool. The apartment felt awfully silent with Barnaby perched there on his bed, watching him. “What made you come over? Did I miss an interview? Or a hero call?” He gave a weak smile to lighten the mood. “Did you hear me calling to you with my mind, ‘Barnaby! Bring me soup and medicine!’”

Barnaby indulged him with a smile in return, but it faded quickly. “It doesn’t matter. We can talk about it later.”

 _That means it’s going to be serious. Or a serious lecture._ But it was fine by Kotetsu if Barnaby wanted to put it off. “Okay.”

Everything about this was awful. He was Barnaby's only friend, and Barnaby was his only partner. They liked each other, they relied on each other. Why was there this invisible thing between them now? It was awful that Kotetsu didn't want him around, and it was awful that he felt too awful to simply send him away. These were deep layers of injustice.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Oh,” he wiggled it experimentally. “Better. The bandage probably helped a lot.” Actually he thought the bandage was overkill, but it would be rude to complain.

“I saw replays of the accident. It’s lucky that was your only injury,” Barnaby commented, tapping a nervous rhythm on his knees.

Kotetsu grimaced at the memory - and was wary of discussing any topic related to yesterday’s chase. He sampled the soup - a melange of flavors that was probably unique to the soup world. Kotetsu decided that 'good’ and 'bad’ were evaluations best left to those whose judgment was unimpaired by illness. “Mmm,” he said. But it was a non-committal 'mmm’.

The younger man advised, “You should try for the rice and shrimp, if you’re up for it.” Now he was clawing at his knees - and obviously floundering for conversation topics. Kotetsu was surprised -- why was Barnaby just as uncomfortable as him? “I guess you haven’t eaten anything since lunchtime yesterday. You need the calories.”

He wasn’t hungry for solid food - and he felt decidedly ambivalent about the food that lurked at the bottom of his bowl - but he nodded. “Sure. I will.”

Barnaby nodded, too. A nod of finality. “Okay. Well. I’m glad you’re a bit better. I’ll let you finish your soup and get back to sleep.”

“Oh--” Had he said or done something to drive Barnaby off? Kotetsu wasn’t at his best, but he knew he shouldn’t be rude to someone who’d spent the day taking care of him.

On the other hand, maybe it would be easier for them both if he let Barnaby escape… “You don’t have to go,” he offered feebly.

Standing now, Barnaby glanced away. “I don’t-- To tell the truth, I feel a bit out of place here.” Involuntarily or not, his eyes darted across Kotetsu’s bed to the window ledge. Kotetsu followed his gaze...

Pictures of Tomoe. He and Kaede were in some of them, too -- but always Tomoe, smiling down on him. It had never occurred to him that he’d built, in essence, his own private shrine to his late wife. Of course Barnaby felt like an intruder in such an intimate space.

Looking at the pictures, Kotetsu felt a sharp pang of longing.

Then came smothering guilt. If Tomoe were here, she would be taking care of him just the way Barnaby had done. And she would take him gently by the hand and advise him - without speaking - that he'd been behaving shamefully. Not just today, but for a while now. _(“You know why I love you?”_ she’d asked him once. _“Heroes don’t give up, and heroes always put others first. That’s who you are, even when you’re not using your powers. And that’s why I’ll always love you.”)_ Always put others first...Kotetsu hung his head in shame. If Barnaby needed a certain kind of partnership, what did it matter why, or whether it made logical sense?

He closed his eyes. _Tomoe. I’m sorry. You always made me better._ “No… stay.” He caught Barnaby’s hand to emphasize the point. “Tomoe would be grateful to you for helping me today. I’m grateful, too. So, thank you.”

The younger man still looked uneasy, but he sat down again and tried to brush the thanks aside. “It was nothing. You would have done the same.”

He tried to settle back against the pillows. His head felt heavy, but the floodgates were open now - he figured, if Barnaby wanted a conversation, Kotetsu owed it to him, and he might as well be comfortable for it. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Kotetsu said. “I made a stupid rookie mistake losing that guy like that. Or better yet I guess I should have called in sick if I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep up with you. It wasn’t smart of me, and I just ended up hurting our team image. I’m sorry.”

Barnaby looked surprised - even pleased - and then a flash of shame overtook his features. He turned aside. Kotetsu heard him snort quietly at a private amusement. “No…” He laid a hand on Kotetsu’s ankle. When he looked up again he was wearing a smile of disappointment. “It was my fault. I think I’ve been taking the fun out of your life lately, with my insistence on looking good for the cameras and timing our powers carefully. You probably felt pressured to come yesterday, even though it was dangerous for you to be out there like you were.”

He couldn’t help his brow from lifting. He’d expected a lecture, and got an apology... Maybe that was why, when he tried to laugh to lighten the mood, he chuckled nervously instead and achieved the opposite effect. “Well, I don’t know about ‘dangerous’...”

“And I shouldn’t have left you,” Barnaby continued. “We would have seen the accomplice in the car, and you wouldn’t have been hurt - and we could have stopped him and arrested him as a team.”

Ah. There it was. More ‘team action’.

The thought must have shown on Kotetsu’s face, because Barnaby suddenly stopped himself. “Or, wait, I mean… I didn’t mean…”

 _Idiot! Hide your reactions better._ “It’s okay, Bunny.”

“No, it’s--” The younger man sighed and looked down at his feet, clutching at the edge of the bed. Blonde locks fell forward to obscure his face. “I know I’ve been heavy-handed with all the synchronized action and public image advice lately -- and I know that’s not the kind of hero you want to be and I’ve been making it hard for you. I’m sorry.” He looked up - and this time his sigh had a more determined note. “That’s why I brought the fried rice over earlier. To say that from now on, I’ll tone it down.”

Barnaby’s sincerity struck a chord through his heart. He remembered how Barnaby used to be: selfish, a bit bratty, points-obsessed. He’d come such a long way. And now here he was, putting Kotetsu’s needs before his own. _Maybe Barnaby’s the better hero now…_

Kotetsu closed his eyes and laid his head back, gathering his thoughts and fighting off a wave of dizzying heat. _If this is the last thing I ever do for Barnaby as my partner, then at least I’ll have done things right._

“Barnaby,” he began quietly, reluctantly, “maybe we should be realistic. I’m having a couple of bad days here, but even on my good days, I can’t be the kind of partner you need…”

Barnaby started. “What? Wait -- what do you mean?”

He forced himself to keep going. “You know that I hold you back. It was one thing when we were on the Second League and there wasn’t any pressure, but the First League is important - I mean, higher profile.” He did his best to look serious while smiling kindly. “You’ll do better with a partner with equal powers - someone who can synchronize with you for more than a minute. Then you can get maximum effectiveness - you can score points _and_ do the most good.”

Barnaby tried to interrupt, shaking his head, “Kotetsu…”

“And you can find someone who wants to focus on the things that you’re focused on, like public appearances and points and ‘team action’! Golden Ryan may have been a serious jerk, but he was a good partner for you for all that.”

“Please stop talking now!” It looked like Barnaby might claw through the mattress.

He smiled again, hoping it would soften Barnaby up - though saying these words did not inspire him to smile. “I’m just saying, it’s not smart for you to hitch yourself to an old horse like me. And, look, Bunny, we’ll always be friends, but I know you were pressured back into this after we saved Schneider - with the cameras and the crowds and Agnes.” Kotetsu paused to catch his breath. There was a good reason he hadn’t wanted to do this today. He worried Barnaby might interrupt again, but he seemed to be busy grinding his teeth. “I promise it won’t hurt my feelings if you want a different partner, or if you want to be a solo hero. We could talk to Lloyds and Agnes, I’m sure they would work something out--”

Barnaby launched off the bed, roared: “ _That’s enough, Kotetsu!_ ” It made Kotetsu jump - he almost spilled his soup.

Barnaby paced the tiny space - he was basically turning in circles - his face taut with pain and probably a dozen conflicting thoughts. Finally he came to loom over Kotetsu’s bedstand and grabbed a water bottle, shoved it in Kotetsu’s face. “Drink this,” he commanded.

Kotetsu complied, sipping, eyes wide and wary. Barnaby sat down on the bed again, almost as forcefully as he’d jumped off it. Kotetsu watched the wheels continue to spin behind his eyes as Barnaby glared at the floor, using the time he’d borrowed with his water bottle diversion.

Finally, still not looking at Kotetsu, he asked tersely, “Are you saying you can’t handle being in the First League anymore?”

He lowered the drink to reply, “No…”

“Are you saying you want to quit being on a hero team with me?” Barnaby’s green eyes darted a warning at him. “I’m asking if that’s what _you_ want. If _you_ want to be a solo hero or change careers.”

“No.” He emphatically did _not_ want to go back to being a cab driver.

“Then stop talking about this, please,” he said, polite but stern. Very stern. He faced him, and his eyes had an accusing look, but also a gloss of apology in them. “You think I’ve been focused on teamwork and public image and points because I care about those things? I _don’t_ care about those things. _You’re_ the one who taught me that those things don’t matter!” He flattened his hands, slapped his legs in emphasis. “But I don’t want anyone at Apollon Media getting the idea again that their stock prices would be higher if I was teamed up with somebody else! Understand?” Kotetsu blinked, not one-hundred-percent following in his bleary state. “We need for the audience to want to see us _together_. If people love Wild Tiger and Barnaby as a _team_ , then we’ll get to stay that way - no one will get any bright ideas about splitting us up again. Do you see? I don’t want another Golden Ryan, and I don’t want to be a solo hero -- I want _you_ as my partner, Kotetsu, and no one else.”

Tears sprang to Kotetsu’s eyes. “Jeez, Bunny.”

“Sorry…” Barnaby turned to the side and wiped at tears on his own cheeks. “I wasn’t pressured into being your partner again. And Golden Ryan was never my partner. They just made us work together - it’s not the same.”

Kotetsu looked to the side as well. _It’s just because I’m sick,_ he told himself, to explain why he couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, or his throat from closing up.

Barnaby continued, “The only reason I didn’t quit when they brought in Ryan is because you made me think you wanted things that way.” He closed his eyes. “I want to make sure that doesn’t happen again. That’s all. But -- I guess I’ve been going overboard with it lately. I’m sorry. I can tone it down.”

“No,” Kotetsu said past the lump in his throat, “I hadn’t thought about it that way. You’re right, we want people to see us as a team, and we want to be good heroes. We should coordinate more.”

“But to work effectively as a team, we both have to be able to play to our own strengths, right? So maybe we don’t always have to coordinate exactly.” He repeated, “I can tone it down.”

Kotetsu smiled - and in an impromptu burst of affection, reached over and patted the back of Barnaby’s hand. With his other hand, Barnaby wiped at his face again. Kotetsu was so relieved to have been wrong, there was almost no room to feel foolish.

Except he did feel like a fool, and a self-deprecating laugh slipped out. So Kotetsu surrendered to it, laughing and then crying with mock exasperation, “Bunny! I thought you wanted to fire me.” He gave Barnaby’s shoulder a shove.

Barnaby chuckled, too. “I thought you wanted to quit.” They finally found one another’s eyes again, smirked at their misunderstanding. “I guess it’s a good thing I came over.”

Kotetsu glanced at Tomoe’s photos again, her image frozen forever in a loving smile. “Yeah, a good thing.” And then back at Barnaby, who for the first time in weeks was smiling, too - really smiling, one of his genuine smiles, full of warmth and affection. “Say, Bunny,” he said, “I’ve done enough sleeping for a while. Help me downstairs and we’ll put on a movie or something.” He made the suggestion knowing that he would likely fall asleep on the couch next to Barnaby within five minutes, but there was some appeal in that, too.

“Sure.” He moved the soup bowl to the table and stood to let Kotetsu rise.

Barnaby’s wristband chimed. They both looked at it, and a moment of hesitation passed. “I’ll tell them I can’t come,” said Barnaby, reaching for the band.

Without thinking, and with speed and strength that surprised himself, Kotetsu’s hand shot out to catch Barnaby’s arm. “No, Bunny, you should go.”

“But--”

“What did we just finish talking about? How it’s okay for us to be heroes on our own sometimes.” He released Barnaby with a smile. “Go for it, Lil’ Bunny. We put others first, and we don’t give up - that’s our job, right?” He settled back into the pillows again. “You can come back and take care of me more, after. Right?”

Barnaby gave him a conciliatory smile and a nod. “Right.” He touched Kotetsu’s shoulder, then glanced at the bedstand. “You don’t need anything before I go?”

“You’re wasting valuable seconds. The criminals are getting away. People need saving.”

“Okay, okay!” He practically bounced down the stairs. He called before closing the door behind him, “I’ll see you later.”

Kotetsu laid back and stared at the ceiling again, still feeling heavy, still stiff, still warm - and now lucky, too. He turned to the side and found Tomoe’s photographs. _You’re still watching out for me and making me better, aren't you?_ Smiling to himself, he thought the empty space on the ledge might be ready for some new photos, with pictures of the other people who did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading all the way to the end. I love these guys so much - I love them together, I love them apart, I love throwing crap at them and watching them overcome it. They're just the best. Hope you enjoyed this at least a fraction as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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